The Hills
by olicityqoak
Summary: There is no way for Oliver and Felicity - treated like celebrities in their city - to get away with an affair. But there's also no way to resist it any longer. Especially now that Felicity has resurfaced after over a decade of avoiding Oliver. But what happens when Oliver is able to connect the dots and dig up parts from Felicity's past that she has spent years trying to hide?
1. Prologue

"Felicity!"

She ignored her name being called as she stuffed as much as she could into as many bags as she could carry. Silent tears of betrayal tinged with mascara ran down her cheeks and splattered black on her comforter.

"Honey, listen."

She didn't want to listen. There was nothing to hear. No words in any language could fix what had been broken. She zipped up the last bag and slung it over her shoulder. She had to get out of that bedroom.

Ignoring his weak attempt to calm her down, she stepped around him and slammed the door behind her. "Stay there," she muttered as she turned the corner and walked into her fourteen year old daughter's room.

"Almost ready," the girl mumbled, dazed. She was trying to keep her composure but her mother saw the tears in her eyes and the shaking in her slumped shoulders as she packed up as much of her room as she could.

"Take your time, sweetheart," Felicity smiled, but it was a smile that was forced and didn't touch her eyes. She wanted to get the _hell_ out of that house.

The girl nodded and grabbed a stuffed animal off her bed along with various chargers for electronic devices, "Will I be able to come back and get the rest of my stuff later?"

Felicity froze, she couldn't imagine ever stepping foot in the property ever again, "We'll send Hunter to collect the remaining things later. Let's go."

Her daughter, Mia, sighed and grabbed her bags, "I hope dad isn't expecting a hug goodbye."

Felicity snorted, leading the way down the stairs as she fumbled around in her purse for her keys, "If he is, he's crazier than I thought."

She held the door open for Mia and took one last look inside the place that she had once called home. Her driver, Hunter, followed her with wide eyes as she hurried over to her car.

"I'm going to drive myself. Please follow me to my office," she said, her fingers wrapped around the car door handle, "Oh, and Hunter, please alert all of security and staff that Mr. Palmer is no longer able to receive their services."

The man nodded, clearly shocked, "Yes ma'am."

Felicity slid into her CLA-class Benz and shut the door behind her. Taking one look at Mia crying in the passenger seat, she turned the car on and reversed out of the driveway. Without looking back, the toe of her hot pink heel slammed down on the gas pedal. In that moment she sped away from her home and her husband: her lying, sneaking, cheating husband.

And just like she had fourteen years ago…she ran.


	2. Chapter 1

She made a point to buy a house on the opposite side of town. The realtor didn't even have to throw in any promises or bargains; Felicity just asked for a pen and signed all the necessary paperwork. The house was a bit larger than her old one: six bedrooms, six full bathrooms, two half-baths, a kitchen on both floors, an outdoor swimming pool, and an indoor hot tub. All of the space was entirely unnecessary and a bit ostentatious, but she grew up living in creaky apartments and had worked hard so that she could enjoy the materialistic things. Still, the extra space reminded her of fleeting conversations with Ray about having another baby. Her heart ached with sheer want at the thought of adding another member to what was once a happy family.

If Mia felt uncomfortable in the large house, she kept quiet about it. Between Felicity being at work and Mia attending school and dance practice, there was never really any time for the two of them to talk. They hadn't spoken about Ray or the pending divorce or the woman moaning underneath Mia's father in her mother's bed. Felicity knew that her daughter had questions that needed to be answered, but she wasn't ready to face the reality of it all.

She sighed as she watched Hunter and the other security details carry boxes into the kitchen. She had given them strict instructions to take everything in the house that belonged to her or Mia. It was a nightmare having to fight with Ray on who owned what. Finally they had agreed that he would keep the house and she would take the furniture. But she left her bed behind; Ray and his whore could keep it.

"Mrs. Palmer," Hunter grumbled, interrupting her thoughts, "what should we do with this?" Her wedding and engagement rings sat in the palm of his hand. She glared at them.

"Ms. Smoak, please," she responded, waving a dismissive hand, "sell those things and keep the cash for yourself, Hunter."

He shifted uncomfortably, "Ms. Smoak, these are worth thousands of dollars. Are you sure Mia wouldn't like to have them?"

"You're free to offer them to her," Felicity shrugged, "but when she denies them, consider this a bonus in your paycheck for this month."

Hunter, who was clearly at a loss for words, choked out, "Thank you, ma'am," and shuffled off to find Mia. Felicity counted his loud footsteps up the stairs and waited the thirty seconds it took for Mia to decline the rings and for Hunter to return to the living room. She gave him a smug smile and patted his shoulder as she walked past him and into her bedroom. Sitting down on the edge of her new, clean, untainted bed, she held her head in her hands and took in a deep breath. "You'll get through this," she whispered to herself, "You _have_ to get through this."

She had no choice. Felicity Smoak was known nationwide for her SmoakTech company and all of her accomplishments. She was one of Starling City's elite; the press would eat her alive if she cracked. Felicity Smoak _never_ cracked.

Yet there she was, adjusting herself into the fetal position as she continued trying to regulate her breathing. Tears pooled in her eyes and she didn't bother to fight them as they fell. For the first time since that god awful day, Felicity Smoak cried. She cried for Mia's damaged relationship with Ray, she cried for her marriage, and she cried for herself. She cried until her eyes ran dry and continued to cry even without tears. Sleep being her only escape, she closed her eyes and waited to slip into oblivion.

She woke to the smell of dinner being prepared in the kitchen: grilled chicken and scalloped potatoes. Her stomach rumbled but the thought of food made her nauseous, and, as much as she needed to, she knew she couldn't eat. She managed to drag herself out of bed and into the bathroom, peeling off her clothes and turning on the shower in what seemed like slow motion. For a moment she stared at herself in the mirror: completely naked, vulnerable. Her fingers ran along the small scars from having Mia by caesarean section, her mind flashing back to Ray holding her hand and stroking her hair as he told her she was going to be okay.

"Liar," Felicity grumbled to herself. It seemed like nothing would be okay ever again. Her eyes traveled up her body in the mirror and focused on her face. It was evident that she had skipped a few meals just from the hollows beneath her cheekbones. Exhaustion painted deep, purple circles under her eyes. She looked older, as if she had aged five years in five days. Felicity Smoak was cracking.

Unable to look at herself any longer, she tore away from the mirror and stepped inside the shower without waiting for the water to warm up. The cold droplets helped prove to her that this was not a dream: she was awake, and this was her reality. With shaky hands she lathered herself in soap, as if she could wash away the past week and everything that had happened. Every so often the memory of Ray massaging her soapy shoulders in their old shower would creep into her thoughts, reminding her of what she had and what she lost. When her knees started to wobble she turned the water off and grabbed her towel, leaving a trail of water as she walked into her closet. It was still very strange to only see her things and not his. She slipped on an old T-shirt and a pair of underwear and walked back to her bed.

"Tomorrow will be better," she promised herself, "it has to be." And once again she let the darkness overcome her.

She woke up before the sun had risen. Normally five o'clock in the morning would've been considered an ungodly hour and she would've gone back to sleep, but today she was happy she had a few hours to herself before everyone else woke up. She stretched out in her sheets, feeling the tightness of her muscles. She needed a run. She usually avoided exercise like the plague, but she was well rested and could use the opportunity to burn off anger and stress. She slipped out of bed and threw on leggings, a sports bra, and a light jacket. Grabbing a pair of sneakers off the shelf of athletic shoes she never wore, she tiptoed throughout the house and snuck out the front door.

Sucking in a deep breath of fresh air, she couldn't help but crack a genuine smile. For the first time in six days she was completely alone. She wasn't surrounded by people at the office, she didn't have Hunter hovering over her, and she didn't have her mother or her friends blowing up her phone. She was actually alone. The only noise she could hear was the soft chirping of birds and hum of automobiles driving past her. It was lovely.

She started off with a light jog as she wove through the streets of her neighborhood. It was a bit yuppier than her previous subdivision, but she appreciated her new scenic route. She passed houses with intricate gardens and waved at the rare neighbors who were also up so early. When she finally felt warmed up, she broke into her version of a sprint and continued looping throughout her neighborhood.

She had just settled into a comfortable pace when she saw him running on the opposite sidewalk, his hair shorter but his face exactly the same. He wasn't wearing a shirt, and even without her glasses she could tell that he had acquired a couple tattoos and what seemed to be a few battle wounds as well. He stared straight ahead as he ran, sweat dripping down his perfectly define abs.

Felicity swallowed.

He must've felt her staring because he lifted his gaze from the ground and locked eyes with hers. When the shock registered across his features, her feet tangled together and she fell flat on her ass on the pavement.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," she groaned, rubbing the offended area, "damn it!"

"Felicity?" He called, crossing the street to reach her.

It was definitely him. He had the kind of voice that you could never forget. She gawked at him in stunned silence. This could not be happening.

"Felicity! It's Oliver! Ollie! Come on, don't you remember me?"

She almost considered saying no. She thought about pretending to have amnesia, or saying that she was actually Felicity's long lost twin from Las Vegas. Either way it was bullshit and he would call her out on it.

"Hello Oliver," she said quietly, "How could I forget you?"

And how could she? She had spent most of her middle school years and all of her high school years by his side. He had been her absolute best friend, her first love, and so much more. But she had _never_ intended to ever see him again, and she cringed at how cruel fate was to have her end up moving into his neighborhood.

He held out hand, "Let's get you up, yeah?" She tried not to pay attention to the rippling of his muscles as he pulled her to her feet.

"Thanks," she mumbled, "I should probably get going."

"Get going?" He ask, clearly upset, "But we haven't seen each other in years! Thirteen years, Lis."

"Fourteen," she corrected him, "it's been fourteen years."

"Even worse," he shook his head, "you just disappeared. I tried calling and emailing; I even went to your house. Your mom said you and Ray just ran off. You guys eloped, I guess. And then you came back and started that company. I tried to visit you but your receptionist said you were always busy."

She shifted uncomfortably, "Yeah. I'm sorry."

"You're sorry? That's it? " He looked pissed off.

She just nodded.

"Fourteen years, Felicity. I never saw you after graduation. I thought we were past what had happened and then you just left without saying goodbye."

"I'm sorry," she repeated, giving him a small shrug, "really."

They stared each other down for a few moments before Oliver closed his eyes let out a deep sigh, "Well, how have you been?"

She glanced down at her watch and groaned, "I have to head back. I need to be at the office in an hour."

"I guess we'll continue this conversation over drinks tonight," he said casually, "I'll send my driver over to get you."

She blinked at him.

"I have my own driver," she panicked, "but I'm busy tonight."

She took a few steps back and waved at him, "Goodbye, Oliver."

"So that's it? You're just going to disappear again?"

"It's what I do best," she answered, giving him a sad smile.

And once again she was running from Oliver Queen.


	3. Chapter 2

The run home had been a blur. Felicity showered, got dressed, forced herself to eat an apple, and rode to work in a haze. She could not believe what had happened. It wasn't that she was oblivious to Oliver's existence, especially considering that they ran in all of the same social circles, but she had always been sure to avoid him at all costs. Yet there he was running down the sidewalk: still beautiful, still kind, still able to read her like a book. Her heart ached.

She had somewhat kept up with his life through media coverage: he went to college, partied too hard, dropped out, kept partying too hard, traveled the world for five years, and then had to grow up and take over Queen Consolidated when his father passed away. She frowned as she thought about Robert Queen. That man was the father she never had.

 _And you didn't even send his family a condolence card,_ she thought, guilt coursing in her veins, _Oliver probably needed you._

"Mrs. Palm—Ms. Smoak," her assistant, Avery, corrected herself, cheeks flaming, "your attorney is waiting, shall I send her up?

Felicity nodded, "Please do. What time is my afternoon meeting scheduled for?"

The girl thumbed through her notebook, "At four. You have a little over thirty minutes."

"Thank you, Avery," Felicity said, dismissing her, "I'll see you then."

Avery gave her a small smile and turned to exit the office. A minute later Felicity's attorney, Sara Lance, was entering the room.

"Sara," Felicity greeted her, "thank you for coming by."

"Of course. There are certain things that just shouldn't be discussed via telephone."

Felicity waited for her to continue.

"So right now, Ray wants joint custody of Mia," Sara started, "every other weekend and switching off on the holidays. You can fight it, but, since he really isn't a bad father, I can't see that working out for you. Anyway you can sleep on that one. I came here today to talk about the money. Clearly you're the one that paid the bills, but I am letting you know right now that he will get half of whatever was made total during the length of your marriage. It isn't fair, but life is never fair. He is not entitled to any of the assets you had before you marriage, but everything during it is a free-for-all. There is also Mia's college tuition to consider, along with both of your retirement plans."

Felicity groaned, "I'm going to have gray hair by the end of all of this."

Sara reached across the desk and patted her hand, "I'm sorry, honey. This is just a bump in the road. We can't all have perfect lives, that would be too boring."

Felicity snorted, "Boring? I would kill for a perfect life."

Sara smiled and shook her head, "You'd think that, but my sister Laurel is living every woman in Starling City's dream: she's engaged to Oliver Queen."

All the air left Felicity's lungs as if she had been punched in the gut. She had to physically lift her hand to her chin to shut her mouth.

"I know, I know," Sara laughed, "lucky bitch. Anyway, she flips through wedding magazines all day long while sipping on fruity cocktails with a _rock_ on her finger. And as awesome as that sounds, it seems too fake to me. Just a little too good to be true. Life is a lot more interesting when it doesn't go exactly as planned. Imperfection is beauty and all that jazz."

Felicity was still reeling from the news that Oliver Queen, her Oliver, was engaged.

 _He_ _'s not your Oliver anymore,_ she corrected herself, _get over it._

"Anyway, I have to get going," Sara sighed, standing up, "read clauses three through seven tonight and see if you want me to change anything. We'll talk tomorrow."

Nodding, Felicity offered her a small grumble of agreement and a wave before watching her walk out the door. As soon as it shut behind her, Felicity stood up from her desk and began pacing around the room.

Oliver Queen was engaged. Oliver Queen was getting married. Oliver Queen wanted a family. Oliver Queen was settling down.

It burned just thinking about it. She wanted to scream and cry and hack into every telephone company there was until she found his cell phone number. She wanted to call him and yell at him for not telling her that he was about join lives with another woman. She wanted to tell him the reason she ran all those years ago. She wanted to get back the fourteen years with him that she had lost. _It was your decision,_ she reminded herself, _get it together._

Except she couldn't get it together. Her soon to be ex-husband had been fucking random women behind her back, she was days behind on paperwork that needed to be signed to produce a solar powered laptop, and a very small part of her that was still stuck in high school was mourning the fact that Oliver Queen was getting tied down.

A knock on the door pulled her from her thoughts.

"Ms. Smoak," Avery greeted her, "Your meeting will start in five minutes."

"Thank you, Avery," Felicity smiled, but she knew it looked more like a grimace. She stood from her desk and followed the girl down the hall and into the conference room. She read the notes left for her and sat as she waited for the rest of the board to file in.

As they spoke, Felicity's mind wandered off to Oliver. In a weird way, she was almost glad that she had run into him. It gave her something to think about other than the woman in her sheets. She thought about his tattoos and their possible meanings, and she worried about the scars and how he got them. She wondered about his fiancee and if she was as nice as Sara. She wondered if Laurel Lance knew Oliver Queen as well as she did. But she mainly thought about how different her life could've been if she had just stayed in Starling City after graduation. There was a very good chance that she could've been in Laurel Lance's position if she had.

 _A little late to think about it now. You snooze you lose, sister._

By the time the meeting was over she had no clue what she had agreed on or what had been accomplished. The only thing she knew was that fate had led her back to Oliver Queen and she had to see why. She snuck down into the main IT department — her building was composed of many — and logged onto her alias server. She could easily hack from her office, but she felt more at ease when she wasn't sitting behind a desk with a name plate that said "CEO". She ran his name through AT&T, Sprint, Verizon, and T-Mobile, counting the seconds it took before the screen flashed with a match.

 _Gotcha._ She typed the number on the screen into her phone and stared at it. Did she really want to do this? Was she ready to do this? _I guess we'll just have to see,_ she thought as she hit dial.

"Queen," a gruff voice barked, sending chills down her spine.

"How about a drink?" She asked, "I'll even let you send your driver."

"I'm on my way," he replied.

She gulped as she set her phone back down, her stomach twisting in knots. _What the hell did you just get yourself into, Felicity?_


	4. Chapter 3

_It's just a drink. It's just a drink. It's just a drink. It's just a drink. You're fine. It's just one drink._

But would it just be _one_ drink? Or would she let herself slip and have two? Three? Would she be able to be around him after three drinks? Would she be able to be around him sober?

She stood up from her desk and grabbed her coat. _I can do this_. It was just going to be a couple of drinks with an old friend. _I can do this_. She wasn't going to let her guard down. _I can do this._

She kept chanting to herself as she closed up her office and walked to the elevator. She could do this. And if she couldn't, she had the next thirty floors to figure out an escape plan. But she was tired of running, especially from him. Leaving him without a saying a word all those years ago was cruel, and she knew he deserved answers. _Answers you can't give him,_ she reminded herself, _don't forget why you ran in the first place._ She was so lost in her thoughts that she hadn't even realized she was already near the lobby. Time was up.

The elevator halted at the first floor and chimed for her to exit. Oliver Queen's blue eyes were the first things she saw when the door opened.

"Felicity," he breathed, those blue eyes shamelessly roaming her body, "you look lovely."

"I was aiming for professional," she squeaked out, palms starting to sweat. _It might not be too late to run. You could do it. You'll have to leave the heels behind. Maybe security will get them for you._

"Are you ready to go?" Oliver asked, holding his arm out.

She slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow and gulped as he led her out of her building. This was actually happening.

"So where are we going?" She asked, trying to sound casual.

"My bar, actually," Oliver smiled, "Verdant."

"A synonym for green?" She wondered aloud, starting to get nervous. Green used to be her favorite color on him.

He nodded, giving her a sheepish grin, "You loved me in it so much that it became my favorite color as well."

If she wasn't uncomfortable before she definitely was now. It was too much. The whole thing was just too much. She was in way over her head. _I told you that you weren't ready for this._

 _"_ It's just a quick drive down sixth," Oliver promised, squeezing her knee, "how was work?"

She breathed a sigh of relief. Work was a safe topic. She could totally talk about work. "It was nice. Pretty calm today. I had to catch up on all the paperwork and blue prints I was behind on approving. The divorce has been…time consuming."

"Divorce?"

She mentally slapped herself. _Great, you took a safe topic and turned it into a personal one._

"Yes," she mumbled, "Ray and I had irreconcilable differences."

 _Well that's one way to put it._

Oliver opened his mouth to say something but paused as he glanced out the window, "We're here."

She sucked in a deep breath as she tried to prepare herself for the next couple of hours. _Remember, it's just a few drinks._

She followed him out of the car and into Verdant, which was a club attached to Mr. Queen's old factory in the Glades.

"Interesting place to build a nightclub," she noted, "I like it."

He smiled and led her through a crowd of people dancing under the neon lights. At the end of the room was a corner labeled "VIP". Felicity tried not to let the intimacy of the little section get to her head. _Drinks with a friend. Friend. Friend. Friend._

"Please tell me your taste in drinks has gotten better since high school," Oliver teased.

She laughed, shaking her head, "Cherry sours for life."

"I had a feeling you would say that," he chuckled, and before she could blink a bartender was placing the pink drink in front of her.

"You know me well, Oliver Queen."

"I used to."

An awkward silence washed over them, and Felicity took a long sip from her drink. Alcohol was definitely her friend right now.

"That's your queue to tell me all about yourself," Oliver nudged her, "I've been dying to know how you've been."

"You first," she stalled, needing liquid courage, "how's your mom? Thea?"

"Mom's good. She remarried a man name Walter Steele. It's kind of weird seeing her with someone other than Dad, but Walter's a good guy. And Thea is doing well, I guess. She had a bit of a drug problem for a while after Dad died, but she's getting better. I have to be careful around her, though. It's like stepping around land mines. One minute she's normal and then bam, I've pissed her off. I guess that's just her being a teenage girl. You used to be like that sometimes."

"You could be a real ass sometimes," Felicity shrugged, "always pushing my buttons."

A second cherry sour was placed in front of her; she didn't hesitate to start drinking it, "What happened with your dad?"

"He had a mole on his back. It looked harmless. I guess he started to notice the mole changing and growing, so he went to a dermatologist. In the matter of months that tiny little mole had spread cancer to his spine and to his brain. He walked in to get the mole checked out and walked out with a death sentence. I didn't even know he was sick until he was in the final stages of it. I was in Cuba for a while without cell service. When I got back in the states, he had weeks left. I came back home and he prepped me to take over the company. I held his hand when he died."

"I'm so sorry, Oliver," she whispered, overwhelmed with guilt. She should've been there for him.

"He asked about you," he told her, "a lot."

"I didn't know," she looked down, blinking back tears, "If I had known—."

"You would've what? Come back? You clearly didn't want to be found."

She downed the rest of her drink and shivered at the strength of it. A third glass was placed in front of her. "It's hard to explain."

"I can keep up."

"I found out I was pregnant right before graduation," she paused, observing the shock on his features, "I was embarrassed and didn't know what to do. Ray and I ran off. We got married and he let me go to college. He stayed home with our daughter and worked some crappy night job while I got my degree. I was at home one night messing around with my computer when I built a really intricate hacking system. It could get into anything. I sold it to the government for half a billion and I started my own company. I told Ray he could go back to school, but what was the point? He didn't have to. So while I was at work every day, our daughter was at school, and Ray was out playing golf of riding boats with his friends. I found out a week ago that his most recent hobby is sleeping with other women in our bed. So I took my daughter and we left."

He gaped at her.

"I had my reasons for running, Oliver. And I had my reasons for hiding too."

"But why from me? I thought that you were still mad at me for that night. I was so worried about you!"

"Why would I be mad at you for that, Oliver? I wanted it too." She thought back on that one night so many years ago.

 _They had been fighting. All they ever seemed to do was fight. He had just slept with half of the cheerleading team in one night and she was sick of it. She was sick of watching him use girls and sick of watching girls use him. She wanted to scream at him for not realizing he was better than that. She wanted to wave her arms in front of his face and tell him that if he could just keep it in his pants for five seconds he might realize that she has been in love with him for the last four years._

 _"_ _I don't understand why you're getting on my ass about who I'm sleeping with," he grumbled, "as if it's any of your business."_

 _"_ _It's my business because you make it my business! Do you think I want to hear about all the girls you run through? I'm not your guy friends. That doesn't make you sound cool to me. You just sound like a walking, talking, breathing STD!"_

 _"_ _Well then why are you still here, huh? If you're so fucking grossed out Felicity then go home! I'm sure Ray would like to see you in places other than library. Go!"_

 _She stared at him, tears running down her cheeks,_ _"Take it back."_

 _He walked towards her, shaking his head,_ _"No. You're not my mom. Get off my back."_

 _She reached up to slap him, or push him away, or maybe just shoot him the finger, but he caught her hands and yanked her up on her feet,_ _"Let me go, Oliver."_

 _It almost had a double meaning to it. She was done with him. She loved that boy more than she loved anything in the world_ _— including her own boyfriend — but she wasn't going to sit and watch him self destruct. She was walking out that door and she was never coming back. No way in hell._

 _He seemed to catch it in her voice because something deep within him snapped, and he threw her down on the bed and climbed over her,_ _"You know I'll never do that."_

 _She wasn_ _'t sure if it was the alcohol in his system from the party he had been at, or if he had finally registered the energy that had been crackling between them all of these years, but either way Oliver Queen had his hands on her body and his lips on her neck._

 _"_ _Oliver," she shuddered, "you have to st-stop."_

 _"_ _But do you really want me to, Felicity?"_

 _And so he kept going._

"Hello? Earth to Felicity. Are you in there?" Present day Oliver was waving a hand in front of her face, "Where did you go?"

"I was just thinking about that night," she admitted, taking another sip from her drink, "I don't regret that night, Oliver."

"I don't either," he whispered, and the silence that followed was more sad than it was awkward.

Felicity cleared her throat and finished her drink. _Slow down, Smoak. You don't want to have to be carried out of here._ But another cherry sour was already waiting for her, and she was too weak to resist it. She stirred the drink with her straw and lifted it to her lips, she knew she was screwed when she couldn't taste the alcohol. She was definitely a few drinks away from joining the land of the slurring and stumbling.

"So how's Laurel?" She asked, trying to sound casual, "I bet planning a wedding is fun."

Oliver's eyes looked like they were about to bug out of his head, "You know Laurel?"

"Nope. I know Sara. She's my divorce attorney."

"Small world," he mumbled, looking uncomfortable.

"Mmhm," she agreed, looking down at her watch, "I have to go. My driver is here to get me."

"Right," he nodded, "you have a daughter you need to get home to."

"I do."

"What's her name?" He asked, moving to help her out of her seat.

"Mia," Felicity's liquid courage turned into liquid stupidity and she threw in, "it rhymes with Thea."

Biting down on her tongue as she waited for his response, she knew what he was thinking. He was remembering conversations between the two of them in his living room as they talked about names for future children.

"I guess you've been holding on to pieces of me as well," he noted, leading her back towards her car.

"You have no idea, Oliver," she smiled sadly, climbing into the backseat, "Goodbye."

"Goodnight, 'Lis. I'll see you soon."

It was a promise she knew he meant but one that she couldn't commit to. Seeing him again was dangerous. She knew better.

He closed her door and waved to her through the tinted window. She gulped, knowing that as much as tonight needed to be an ending, it was just the beginning.


	5. Chapter 4

She woke up early the next morning, but knew better than to go running. Seeing Oliver again so soon surely would've caused more harm than good. Plus, she had a mean hangover from the previous night and desperately needed a pain killer and some coffee. Sighing, Felicity rolled out bed and threw on her robe.

As she walked into the kitchen, she saw Mia sitting at the breakfast bar swirling her spoon around in her cereal. "Why are you up so early, sweetheart?"

Mia shrugged, "Couldn't go back to sleep."

Felicity squeezed her shoulders before making her way over to the coffee maker, "You want some?"

"Mom," Mia rolled her eyes, "I hate coffee."

"You're your father's daughter," Felicity mumbled absentmindedly, fumbling in the medicine cabinet for ibuprofen.

"But dad loves coffee?"

 _Shit._ "You're right. I'm sorry honey, I must be losing my mind."

The two sat in silence while Felicity waited for her coffee to brew. Felicity studied the dark circles underneath her daughter's blue eyes. She looked exhausted.

"Are you okay, Mia? I know I haven't really been around much to talk about what happened, but if something is bothering you—."

"I'm fine, mom. Really."

Felicity opened her mouth to argue but a knock on the door interrupted her. She shot Mia an apologetic smile and softly caressed her cheek with the back of her hand, "Be right back."

She knew who it was without having to open the door. It was as if she could sense him from a mile away.

She inhaled a shaky breath and opened the front door, "Good morning, Oliver."

"I hope you didn't already make breakfast," he smiled, motioning to a box of donuts, "these are the best in town."

She couldn't help but grin at him, "Mia's been staring at the same bowl of cereal for the last fifteen minutes. Maybe you can get her to eat something." It suddenly dawned on her that Oliver would be meeting Mia, and dread coursed through her veins. "Actually," she stammered, "now might not be the best time to—."

"Please tell me one of those has sprinkles on it," a light voice called out behind them. Felicity watched with wide eyes as Mia bounced towards Oliver holding out her hand, "Hi! I'm Mia."

Oliver's eyes went from Mia to Felicity then back to Mia again. A mixture of shock, confusion, pain, anger, hurt, and amazement flitted across his features. Felicity had to look away.

"Half a dozen with sprinkles and the other half is chocolate glazed," he stared at her little hand in his as he shook it, "it's nice to _finally_ meet you, Mia, I'm Oliver Queen."

She smiled awkwardly as she took the box from him, "I'm sorry, am I supposed to know you?"

"He's an old friend from high school," Felicity blurted out, "he lives a few streets down."  
They followed Mia into the kitchen and watched in silence as she placed a donut on a plate.

"Are you guys going to eat anything? Or do you just want to stare at me while I do? There's a pot of coffee ready if you'd like some, Mr. Queen."

"Oh no thank you," he shook his head, "I hate coffee."

Felicity searched the room for the nearest wall she could slam her head against. Oliver shot her daggers in-between bites of his donut. Mia was clearly feeling the tension but knew better than to ask about it. Finally she excused herself from the table, "I have to go get ready for school. Thanks for the donuts, Mr. Queen! It was nice to meet you!"

"Please, call me Oliver," he told her, "and it was my pleasure."

They both listened as her footsteps began to fade up the stairs, entering her bedroom and closing the door behind her.

"Sweet little girl," Oliver noted, calmly. "She she looks a lot like you. She has your nose, your lips, even your hair."

Felicity nodded, "My mom says she looks exactly like I did at her age."

"She does. I remember you looking just like that."

She waited for him to continue. _Here it comes. Here it comes. Here it comes._

"But you know what's strange?" He wondered aloud, stroking his chin, "She doesn't have your eyes."

 _No, she doesn't._

"Now I never really spent a lot of time around Ray, but I remember him having brown eyes."

She gulped.

"She's got the eyes of a Queen."

Felicity hadn't realized she had backed herself against a wall until she felt herself sliding down it. The anger and betrayal in Oliver's voice and on his face made her stomach twist in crippling knots. "Oliver, you have to understand."

"Understand what?" He snapped, "That I have a daughter and you kept her from me for fourteen years? That you let another man raise her and never stopped to think that maybe I would've wanted the chance to do that? Jesus Christ, Felicity. I should've been there for you! I should've been there for her!"

"It was too much of a responsibility, Oliver," she cried, "you weren't ready! It took you years to get your shit together, Ollie! I only had nine months!"

 _She was standing by the bathroom counter waiting for the longest five minutes of her life to be over. "I am not pregnant. I am not pregnant. I am not pregnant," she chanted to herself. But her period was two weeks late and she had puked twice that morning — which could've been a really crazy coincidence, but at this rate she wasn't too optimistic. Beads of sweat dotted her forehead, her hands unconsciously resting on her flat stomach. What if there really was a baby in there? What would she do? Would she tell Oliver? No, that would completely ruin his life. He wasn't ready for a baby. Hell, it wasn't like she was ready for a baby either. But Oliver would panic. His parents would probably hate her. The media would torture him. And her. And their baby. She would have to get out of Starling and get away from him and his spotlight. She could do that. She could lose him if it meant he would have a better life and their baby would have a better life as well. She would tell Ray it was his. Ray would marry her in heartbeat: he was just that type of guy._

 _The alarm rang and Felicity held her breath as she reached for the stick. Positive. She was pregnant. Hot tears pooled in her eyes and streaked down her cheeks. She wanted Oliver. She wanted him to hold her and rub her back and promise that he would massage her swollen feet and kiss her belly. She wanted him to tell her that everything would be okay. She wanted him to want her the way she wanted him._

 _But that would never happen. Their own baby was conceived in a spontaneous night of lust, not love. Oliver wouldn't whisk her off into the sunset and probably would run the opposite direction from a baby at eighteen. He wasn't ready. So she had to be._

"That doesn't justify you hiding her from me, 'Lis. She's my _child_. I would've gotten it together for her, for you!"

"I didn't want you to have to sacrifice anything for me," she sniffled, staring down at the floor, "it was just a hook-up. There weren't supposed to be strings attached."

"You're going to sit here and tell me that our night together was just a hook-up?" He scoffed, "I made love to you, Felicity. I thought we had finally stopped fighting our feelings. I thought things were going to change for us after that night!"

 _His hands untangled themselves from her hair and tugged at the hem of her shirt. "Off," he murmured against her skin._

 _She lifted her arms and let her slip the top off, staring at him with wide eyes. Oliver had been with so many girls — so many beautiful and exotic girls — that she couldn't help but feel self conscience. But his wild eyes roamed her body in appreciation, a small smile playing at his lips, "God, you're beautiful, "Lis."_

"I was with Ray, Oliver. And you were sleeping with half of our school, so really I was just another number in your body count. Ray was constant and reliable and I knew where I stood with him. You were miles out of my league and there was nothing about me that was strong enough to hold you there. I didn't want to play games, Oliver. I was head-over-heels in love with you, but I wasn't going to go around in circles with you."

 _Her fingernails raked gently across his bare chest as he nipped at her neck, "Beautiful, huh? Normally I get geeky or awkward. Well, I take that back. My grandmother says I'm the prettiest out of the three grandkids."_

" _Felicity," he chuckled, his finger skimming the edge of her underwear, "now isn't the best time to start babbling."_

"You were in love with me?" Oliver asked, interrupting the steamy memory, "You were in love with me and you never thought to tell me?"

"It was a line I didn't want to cross. You were my best friend, Oliver. Some things are just better left unsaid."

"For someone so smart you really are oblivious to the most obvious things, Felicity. I think I've been in love with you since the moment you threw a math book at me when I asked you to do my homework for me in seventh grade."

She stared at him in shock, blinking as she tried to process everything. As nice as it was hearing those words out of his mouth, it really didn't change anything.

 _Too little, too late._

"I'm sorry about Mia, Oliver. I shouldn't have kept her from you. If you don't completely hate me by now, you're welcome to spend time with her. But please, please, please don't tell her yet. She isn't handling the divorce very well and I don't want to overwhelm her. Ray is the only father she has ever known." She watched his jaw tighten at the last part.

"And where does this leave us?" He asked, abandoning his seat at the breakfast bar to come help her off the ground, "We have a child together."

"What do you mean? We're friends if you'd like to be."  
"And what if I don't want to be?" He challenged, stepping towards her. She stepped back, only to have her back hit the wall.

"I wouldn't blame you," she accepted, painfully aware of how close they were.

He lifted his hand and cupped her cheek, "Do you still love me, Felicity?"

It was a question that completely threw her off guard. Was she still in love with him? It had been years since they had been close, but she knew by the desire swirling in her soul that those feelings had never faded.

"Wh-what about Laurel?" She stammered, trying to push him away.

"Do you still love me, Felicity?" He repeated, ignoring her question.

"Oliver, please."

"Felicity."

Maybe it was the fact that he was wearing a V-neck that clung to him in all the right places, maybe it was the fact that he had her pressed up against a wall with one hand on her face and the other trailing her thigh, or maybe it was the fact that she was losing her mind. Either way Felicity found herself running her fingers through Oliver's short hair, her tongue tangled with his as they clung onto each other for dear life.

"I never stopped loving you," he mumbled into her neck, "I probably never will."

"Oliver," she sighed, "I can't."  
"Shh, it's okay," he soothed her, "You don't have to say it, Felicity. I already know."


	6. Chapter 5

"So now what?" Oliver breathed, still kissing her neck, "I don't think I can just walk away."

"I don't think I want you to," Felicity trembled, her hands knotting in his hair. She was still standing against the wall — Oliver pressing into her in all the right places — and she couldn't help but wonder what would happen next if Mia wasn't home.  
"You have to go," she sighed, "she's going to come down soon."

"I know," he mumbled, stepping away from her, "but this conversation isn't over."

"No it's not," she agreed, walking him to the front door, "we'll talk later."  
"I hope we do more than talk," he grinned, kissing the tip of her nose before opening the door and closing it behind him.

Felicity watched as Oliver strolled down the front walkway and over towards his car. A small part of her — bigger than she'd like to admit — wanted to climb into the passenger seat and tell him to drive them off into the sunset. She wanted nothing more than to be eighteen again so that she could run off with him and never look back.

 _But you aren't eighteen,_ she reminded herself, closing the front door as Oliver sped down the street. _You're thirty two, a mom, a CEO, and you're going through a divorce. You have more responsibilities than you can handle. Do you really want to take on Oliver Queen? Do you want Mia to hate you for not telling her the truth about her father? Do you want to deal with the press eating you alive over keeping such a huge secret? Do you want to get between Oliver and his fiancee?_

No, she didn't. She didn't want any of those things. But she wanted him, and she wanted him with every bone in her body.

 _At what cost? This has disaster written all over it. You know better._

"Mom," Mia shook her arm, interrupting her thoughts, "I'm leaving."

"You have everything you need?"

"Yes mom," Mia rolled her eyes, "can I go now? I'm going to be late."

"English project?"

"Yes."

"Biology essay?"

"It's not due until tomorrow."

"Lunchbox?"

"Oh crap!"

"Mmhm," Felicity laughed, "there's always something."

Mia rolled her eyes again — something she did frequently as a teenager — and stalked off to grab the lunchbox sitting on the counter.

"You sure are walking slow for someone who doesn't want to be late." Felicity teased, opening the front door, "Hunter called in sick today, so I'm driving you. Ready?"

Mia nodded and followed her out to the car, "I don't think you've driven me to school since sixth grade."

Felicity frowned, feeling a tad bit guilty. Having Hunter or Ray drop Mia off at school the past few years really wasn't that big of a deal — it wasn't like Felicity was skipping out on a milestone event — but it was another thing that normal mothers did that Felicity did not. Conventional work hours were something that she had kissed goodbye long ago. She spent more time at SmoakTech than she did at home. Ray used to tease her that she was in a polygamist marriage with her company and with him. _The company was a lot more faithful, asshole._

When they were both settled in the car with their seat belts on, Felicity started the engine and reversed out of the driveway. "I'm sorry that I haven't been around as much as I should've been, Mia. There's just a lot that needs to be done at work. I know that's not an excuse but—."

"Mom, it's fine." Mia interrupted her, "Dad was there to take me places and check my homework. You never missed the big things."

It was true, Felicity had never missed a school play, a dance recital, or a spelling bee. She moved mountains to be at all of those events. But it was helping Mia practice her lines for a part, driving her to dance practices, and going over vocabulary late at night that Felicity wished she had also been a part of.

"The little things matter too, though." She murmured, patting Mia's knee, "I don't want to miss them anymore."

"I don't want you to either, Mom."

They drove in a comfortable silence for a couple of minutes before Mia reached to turn on the radio, "So what's the deal with Mr. Queen?"

 _Well actually, he's your father._

"What about him?"

"Why hadn't I heard of him until now?"

 _Because neither of you were ever supposed to know about each other._

"He's an old friend, sweetheart. So old that I forgot about him for a while."

 _As if you could ever forget him._

"Well I don't know how you could forget a face like that," Mia grinned, "he's hot."

"That's gross," Felicity grumbled. _And incestual._

"I'm just saying," Mia shrugged, "he's hot for an old guy."

Felicity cringed, "Still gross."

She pulled into the school's parking lot, thanking her lucky stars that the current conversation was about to be terminated.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Mia stuck her tongue out, "I'll see you later."

"I'll pick you up," Felicity told her, "and we'll go shopping if you promise not to ever say that Mr. Queen is hot again."

"Deal," Mia laughed, climbing out the car, "but you know he is."

She sat there for a moment, smiling as she watched her daughter walk away. Mia was confident and beautiful and graceful and Felicity counted the heads that turned as her daughter strutted over towards her group of friends. The way she carried herself brought back memories of Oliver in high school, and Felicity felt her smile fade.

" _Okay so the formula for density is what?" She quizzed him, trying not to fall flat on her face as she scrambled to keep up with his fast pace._

" _Um," he paused, thinking, "P equals A over F."_

" _No, Oliver," she sighed, "You're thinking of the formula for pressure. But even then you're wrong because that's P equals F over A. The formula for density is P equals M over—."_

 _She stopped talking, realizing that Oliver had left her side. He had strolled over towards Tommy, winking at anything with a pulse along the way._

" _Oliver!" She was exasperated. He had to pass the chemistry final or else he would fail for the year._

 _He held one finger up, as if to put her on hold, and turned to start a conversation with one of the many bimbos that had surrounded him and Tommy._

 _Felicity felt her blood boil. His exam was in ten minutes and he couldn't even tell his ass from his elbow, much less the index of refraction from osmotic pressure._

" _Oh no you don't," she grumbled, marching over towards him, "I'm sorry, Oliver has to go. You'll have to sink your claws in him another day."_

 _She grabbed Oliver's arm and yanked him away from the stunned blonde._

" _Felicity, what the fuck?" He groaned, "You're the ultimate cock block."_

" _Someone has to make sure you don't get herpes," she snapped, "she has slept with half of our baseball team."_

" _And your point is?" He grinned._

" _My point is that the formula for density is actually P equals M over V," she grumbled, trying to get him back on track, "can you think with your brain and not your dick for five minutes?"_

 _He opened his mouth to reply, but the warning bell cut him off._

" _I have to go. I hope you don't fail."_

 _He pulled her into a hug, and Felicity couldn't help but smile as she breathed in his familiar scent. It was the perfect mix of detergent, designer cologne, and Oliver._

" _I'll be fine. I had a kick ass tutor," he assured her, resting his chin on the top of her head, "now go be a nerd and make a perfect score on your exam."_

 _Reluctantly, she pulled away from him, "Will do. I'll see you later."_

" _Later, 'Lis!" He called after her, "Hey wait, it's Y equals MX plus B, right?"_

" _You're screwed," she laughed over her shoulder, "go to class!"_

 _She could hear his answering chuckle, a sound so carefree and boyish that it made her grin like an idiot._

" _You're screwed too, Smoak," she mumbled to herself, "so screwed."_

When Felicity finally returned to reality, Mia was long gone and so were the other cars in the drop-off lane. She sighed, taking one last look at the spot where Mia had been standing, before pulling out of the parking lot and back onto the road.

As she drove towards SmoakTech, she couldn't help but go over everything that had happened that morning. Oliver met Mia. He brought her donuts. They both liked the ones with sprinkles. They even shared a hatred for coffee. He recognized that she was his daughter as soon as he saw her. Mia was still oblivious. They spent twenty minutes in the same kitchen and nothing catastrophic had happened. He wanted to be a part of her life. He didn't run. He loved Felicity. He loved Felicity. He loved Felicity.

And she loved him too.

But was that enough? It was enough for Felicity, but was it enough for Mia? Oliver had missed out on fourteen years of her life. He was a stranger to her, not a father. And Mia loved Ray. Nothing would ever change that. Ray was the one that kissed her scraped knees and let her dance while standing on his toes. Ray—regardless of blood—was Mia's father.

 _She will never trust you again. She will hate you. She will hate Oliver. She will look at you and see nothing but a chicken shit that ran away from the love her life and had his baby with another man. You will be a coward in her eyes._

As she locked her car door and strolled towards the entrance of SmoakTech, it became clear that the cons outweighed the pros. Felicity loved Oliver and wanted to be with him, but she loved her daughter more. And she knew that she could sacrifice her second chance at love if it meant that her daughter would be okay. She didn't need Oliver, she just wanted him. But wanting him was selfish and would undoubtedly destroy everything she had worked so hard for. She had a piece of him in Mia and that was enough. It had to be enough.

"Good morning, Ms. Smoak," Avery greeted her cheerfully, interrupting her thoughts, "coffee?"  
"Not today," Felicity shook her head. She was wired enough. "Any messages for me?"

"Yes, ma'am. Your attorney called to make sure that you read all the clauses that you were supposed to. She also said she would be stopping by to finalize everything before your mediation."  
"When will she be coming by?"

"I've cleared your schedule from two to three."  
"Thank you. Any other messages?"  
Avery shifted in her seat, looking slightly uncomfortable, "Mr. Palmer called and asked you to check your email."

Felicity nodded, feigning disinterest, "Thank you, Avery."

"Of course, Ms. Smoak." 


	7. Chapter 6

Felicity's heels clicked against the tile as she headed towards her office. She reached into her purse with shaky hands and was all fingers and thumbs as she searched for her cellphone. _What the hell could he possibly want?_ She sat down at her desk and scrolled through her emails until she found the one from Ray. Sucking in a deep breath, she tapped to open it. _Here we go._

FROM: Ray Palmer 

SUBJECT: Second chances

TO: Felicity Smoak fsmoak 

Felicity,

I find that I am having a hard time signing divorce papers without you hearing what I have to say first. I understand that you are upset with me — you have every right to be. I want you to know that I have stopped seeing that woman in hopes that we can reconcile and perhaps consider giving our marriage a second chance. Regardless of your opinion on that, I would like to speak to you before the mediation. I do hope this will not have to go to court.

P.S. I would also like to see Mia. Try to remember she is my child too.

Ray

She had to force herself to swallow the bile that had risen in her throat. A second chance? Was he crazy? Second chances were for couples that fought over finances and mother-in-laws. They were not intended for husbands that screwed twenty year olds while his wife was at work. Felicity's bright blue thumbnails hovered over her phone's keyboard as she thought out a reply. _Would it be unprofessional to just say "Fuck you"?_

FROM: Felicity Smoak fsmoak 

SUBJECT:

TO: Ray Palmer 

Ray,

I'm not entirely sure what world you're living in…but clearly it is one where CHEATING ON YOUR WIFE is something that can be fixed with a few apologies. I hate to inform you that the real world does not work like that. I am not interested in anything that you have to say, so sign your papers and let's get on with our lives. You are welcome to see Mia anytime you wish. If she isn't answering your calls, I'm sure it has something to do with her disgust towards you and your unfaithful actions. Maybe next time you will think about the possible repercussions before doing something like this again. I will see you next Wednesday at the mediation. I'd like to avoid court as well.

Felicity

 _Whew. Chew on that, Palmer._ She threw her phone back in her purse and turned on her computer. She had to approve a few blueprints for projects and then deal with human resources. A secretary had dropped a sexual harassment complaint on one of her IT specialists, making her life significantly more difficult than it already was.

"Ms. Smoak," Avery mumbled, interrupting her thoughts, "You have a Skype meeting in five minutes."

"Thank you, Avery. Please set it up for me in the conference room. I will be there shortly."

"Yes, Ms. Smoak."

Sighing, Felicity gathered her notes and stood up from her desk. _Conducting the sexual harassment investigation sounds better than this meeting. You should've had an extra cup of coffee._

By the time she walked into the conference room, Avery already had the entire room ready to go and was out of sight. As if her assistant could read her mind, a coffee mug sat waiting for Felicity as she sunk down into her chair and logged into the company Skype account. _Man, that girl needs a raise._

Glancing at the time on the corner of the screen, Felicity pursed her lips. The meeting was scheduled for 10:30 and it was 10:32. _Not that Merlyn is ever on time. Does the man own a watch?_

Malcolm Merlyn was a shady businessman and an even shadier human being. Felicity had known him in her formative years as the dad of Oliver's best friend, Tommy. All she knew back then was that he was an asshole. Eleven years later, his company was able to offer SmoakTech a very beneficial partnership. Unfortunately, he was still an asshole.

But when the shrill ring of the Skype call began playing through the speakers, it was music to Felicity's ears. _Let's get this show on the road._

"Hello Malcolm," she shot the webcam a stiff smile, "punctual as ever."

"Consider it fashionably late," he shrugged. "Tell me, have you enjoyed being the face of the tabloids for the last week? I am sorry to hear about your divorce. I quite liked Ray."

"I'm afraid that I have no clue what you're talking about," she dismissed, "but I think we have more important things to cover than my marriage."

"You're one of the most powerful women in the world and you thought news of your divorce wouldn't make headlines? My wife recorded a segment on E! News of them discussing Ray's mysterious mistress and your upcoming custody battle."

Felicity gulped. She hated that her personal life was on display for the entire world to see. Especially for Mia's sake. _A custody battle? What the hell?_

Shaking her head, Felicity forced herself to focus on the screen in front of her, "It's all a bunch of horse shit, Malcolm. You know that people in this city have nothing better to do than to pry into our lives."

A slow, cheshire grin spread across his face, "I'm sorry, did I strike a nerve?"

Taking in a deep breath, she avoided the urge to roll her eyes, "Do you have any information on the I76 shipment? We'd like to start production within the next week."

The meeting with Malcolm was dull — as usual — but productive. This time next week, Merlyn Global would be sending Felicity the technology her company needed to test Artificial Intelligence systems. After exchanging goodbyes, Felicity unplugged her laptop from the conference screen and powered everything down.

"How was your meeting, Ms. Smoak?" Avery smiled, greeting Felicity as she entered the lobby.

"As well as meetings with Merlyn go," she grumbled. "Will you please order a salad to my office? Thousand Island, please."

Avery blushed, "Uh, Ms. Smoak," she paused, gesturing behind Felicity.

She turned to see Oliver, distracted on his phone, with a bag of Big Belly in his lap.

"He said you two had plans for lunch," Avery explained, nervously, "I know it's not in the calendar, but I figured Oliver Queen wasn't just anybody."

Felicity nodded, "I've got it from here. Thank you, Avery."

When she turned back around, Oliver had discarded his phone and was staring at her.

"Hello, Mr. Queen. I'm guessing there's a bacon burger in that bag."

"Ms. Smoak," he smiled, standing up, "I'm glad your order is still the same."

"Please, follow me," she motioned, turning to go to her office.

She watched as Oliver looked around, picking up photographs of Mia on her desk and frowning at the ones with Ray in them.

"Would you like to tell me what you're doing here?" Felicity asked.

"We agreed we were going to talk later," Oliver answered, setting the paper bag down on her desk.

"Yeah, later. As in later tonight, or tomorrow, or next week. In private. Not a couple of hours later! Not in public!" She huffed, "We can't be seen together like this. You're engaged! Today I was told that I am all over the tabloids. Do you think I want or need to give them another reason to chronicle my personal life? I was on freakin E! News! That's national news!"  
"I don't think I would consider that _news,_ " Oliver chuckled, "that channel is just televised gossip and those god awful Kardashians. I wouldn't worry about anyone taking it too seriously."

"I've got a fourteen year old!" She reminded him, "Those girls live on gossip. Can you imagine seeing your mother on the tabloids instead of some boy band? Or how about Laurel seeing pictures of you bringing me lunch?"

"Alright, alright," he relented, handing her a burger, "I get your point. But this morning had me reminiscing over the good times. I can't think of a Friday night where we didn't go to Big Belly."

"Don't be cute and romantic," she groaned, "I'm supposed to be annoyed with you."

"Shut up and eat your burger," Oliver laughed, "Next time I'll be more secretive."

Felicity couldn't help but frown, "I feel so guilty, Oliver. This is so wrong. Laurel would be crushed. So many people would hate us."

"I know it's wrong, 'Lis," he sighed, "but I don't feel the same way with Laurel as I do with you. Ever since our night together all those years ago, I just have never been able to feel the same way."

"I'll be divorced by the end of the month, Oliver. You could call off your engagement to Laurel and we could be free to feel anything we want."

"It's just not that simple, Felicity."

"Nothing ever is, Oliver. But what kind of a role model am I for my daughter if I pursue a relationship with a man who is in engaged? The only life she has ever known was ripped to pieces because of some woman who couldn't respect a marriage. And now you're expecting me to be the other woman?"

"I don't know what you want me to say, Felicity. I didn't come here to argue. I came here to talk."

"This is us talking! This is what we have to talk about, Oliver! Did you think we could just dive into an affair and there wouldn't be any consequences? This is insane!"

 _Of course he isn't thinking, Felicity. He's still the same juvenile dipshit he was fourteen years ago. He's thinking with his dick and not his brain. He probably has four other women lined up behind you. Oliver Queen isn't monogamous. It's not in his blood._

"I think I'm going to go," he announced, standing up, "I'm not sure what the hell I was hoping to accomplish here today, but it certainly wasn't this."

"I'm sorry I'm not jumping at the opportunity to be a whore and a home wrecker. Most people with morals typically don't condone cheating."

"You don't condone cheating? Well what the hell would you consider you fucking me and getting pregnant while dating Palmer, Felicity?"

She hadn't realized she had slapped him until they were both staring at each other in shock. Everything after that was a blur. Papers were flying, pens were clattering, clothes were falling to the ground in a heap.

"You're such an asshole," she panted, tearing at his shirt. She could feel his lips curl into a smile as the pressed against her neck.

"I hate you," he mumbled, his teeth grazing her jawline, "so, so, so much."

"Back….atcha…." Her voice trailed off as his fingertips trailed her thigh. Felicity moaned in anticipation. Very deliberately, his fingers traveled to the edge of her panties before pulling away.

"I've waited fourteen years for this to happen again. Now is not the time to be a tease," she whined, bucking her hips as his fingers repeated the same torturous path.

"Now you know what it's like," he murmured, removing her bra, "to have you tell me that you love me, and then say you can't be with me."

"So close," he whispered, this time slipping a finger inside her panties.

"Oliver," she breathed.

"Yet so far away," he removed his hands from her and pulled back, "Upsetting, isn't it?"

"Oliver!" It was a plea this time. She needed him more than she needed air. Every bone in her body ached for his touch.

"Alright, alright," he smiled, slipping off her panties, "No more lessons. I think you get the point."

She reached for his face and pulled his lips down to hers. Hooking two fingers into the waistband of his briefs, she slowly slid them down his thighs and past his knees. Oliver made it easier for her and kicked them off once they reached his ankles.

"Sex. Desk. Now." She mumbled between kisses.

They were skin to skin, their bodies softly grinding as their lips continued moving together.

"You sure?" He asked, positioning himself, "Because if you're not—."  
"I'm the one that's supposed to talk too much," she laughed, interrupting him.

Was she sure? _Hell no. Once we do this, you've crossed a line that you can't come back from. Can you live with the guilt? The shame?_ _  
_One look in his eyes and she knew her answer. Regardless of whatever consequences she would be facing, she needed him. She was sick of denying it.

"I'm sure."


End file.
